a letter from eros

love is unconditionally true,

as newborn eyes looking back at you


love is quiet, on a rainy day

when holding hands seems to braid colors
into the gray

love is patient, when voice is lost

strength in understanding at every cost


love is a fighter when battles concede

finding equal footing, a tug of war freed


love is clarity when sight is gone

a caress in the dark, curtains drawn


love is loud when tears ignite

a warrior in battle prepared to fight


love is years of day to day

yet living in that first hello
when your lover looks your way

love is simple yet so completely complicated too

as intricate as pieces of a puzzle,

as delicate as the morning dew

love is ageless, knows not of any bounds

worth growing old with

worth walking in the rain to

worth bravely speaking aloud


if love happens to kneel upon your door

greet it gently, sip it slow

for it knows already the way to your core


it need not bound you

no desire to proclaim

you’ll know when it finds you

no matter brief, no matter the refrain


for love is unconditionally true

beyond any scars, eyes that’ll find yours

to see that true you

Listen to me read A Letter from Eros

wild: a haiku

in the wild of me

special thoughts rain blissfully

forest grows louder

I captured this image while in one of the bayou’s outside of New Orleans in Louisiana. I love the look (and feel) of Spanish moss and how it seemingly rains throughout the branches of trees. A moment after I captured this image, I found myself beneath this tree, letting the moss trail across my face and couldn’t help but feel as if I was being greeted by its soul. if only we but listen….

benthos

beyond the shallows

where your waves steep

extracting the flavors of the sea

in the rush of darkness,

i bloom most silently

into this garden of benthos, a blushing bride i become

where you in most ardent steps nakedly roam

clutching the tapestry of emeralds woven about my hair

draping upon the coral of my cheeks lending glitter to the foam

 

cradling the brine that blankets the secrets that i keep

where empty forests speak the language of me

and you, with lips of atlantis, unearth the diamonds of my deep


Listen to me read Benthos

mischief: a haiku

candlelit mischief

flaxen hush blossoms in waltz

waxing flames entwined

We Exhale – Isotherme

The music that accompanies this piece is that of my talented friend and composer, Isotherme, from his album Cinquieme. His musical experiments are that of a meditative journey in ambiance and sound. For more of his music you can visit his collection of albums here.

waning

as twilight takes hold of daylight’s reign,

i remember, the you, the i, and all the

treasures restored beneath a lovers sky

where i kiss you, my love,

beneath waning eye

Castaway – Evocativ

I am a lover of the moon and pull from her quiet emotion when she peeks between the clouds. For the longest time, however, I was intimidated at trying to capture her beauty. While I still have much to learn with night photography, this is my very first non cell phone capture of her grace. A better lens is in order but for now, I admire her beauty from afar.

ivory: a haiku

frail is the hunger

morning rain caresses flesh

thunder breathes ivory

Wings – Niklas Aman

Captured this image during a hike in the fall and with no pun intended is memorable for me as I fell getting to it along the slippery rocks. The laughter commenced as thankfully I didn’t get hurt and a rest along the mossy stones was appreciated. Waterfalls are among the many wonders of nature that carry me to a different place and are a favorite of my camera to attempt to capture where the magic seems to flow in slow motion.

rapture: a haiku

the blackbird’s rapture

in the slick draw of midnight

a stance of freedom

Distorted Light Beam – Bastille

I took this image while sitting on my deck in the backyard. I love to travel and adventure to new places especially with my camera in tow but more often than not, I become inspired by the views my own backyard offers from the ever changing blooms and sway of the trees to the visits I receive from the wanders of nature (minus the spiders, I’m sorry) such as this crow that found a moment in the shade before venturing about his day.

This song, that I just recently discovered, found me on the drive home from a challenging day of work and carried me to this image. A calm overcomes me every time I watch a bird in flight or perched upon the branch of a tree. How free they seem to be. How much wiser they are than thee.

virtue: a haiku

silence, a virtue

wading through canopies wild

dresses me at dawn


I captured this image within the gardens of Elizabethan Gardens on Roanoke Island in North Carolina. The statue, one created by artist Maria Louisa Lander, is that of Virginia Dare, the first English child born in the New World. Her rendition is that of her imaginative design of what little Virginia would have looked liked as a woman. For those of you unfamiliar of the mysterious story of Virginia and the Lost Colony, read more here.

What I didn’t know, until recently, is the extraordinary history of all this piece endured before finding its final resting place within the gardens. The artist created this piece in Rome over a fourteen month period and upon its completion in 1859, it was placed aboard a ship and in 1860 began its journey to the United States. The ship, however, sank off the coast of Spain where the statue remained at the bottom of the sea for two years until Lander paid to recover it.

Once recovered, the buyer of the statue died from a fire in his home but thankfully the statue was recovered and found its way back to Ms. Lander’s possession where it remained until her death in 1923, leaving it to the state of North Carolina.

It then sat in a public building in Raleigh where it soon received complaints because of its nudity and ultimately was placed in a basement then later to a state auditor’s office. It was here that the piece repeatedly suffered vandalism by way of mockers applying lipstick to her.

Her journey wasn’t finished yet though. In 1938 she was crated up and sent to the director of what is now the famous play “The Lost Colony” on Roanoke Island where she survived a flooding and then later was moved to his home in Chapel Hill where she remained crated until the 1950’s when upon his death it was donated to what is now her home, The Elizabethan Gardens.

One hundred years after her creation and harrowing journey, she is a beautiful addition to the Gardens surrounded by live oaks and flowers that beckons you to sit a spell and take in the history and the beauty that Roanoke Island and the Elizabethan Gardens offers.


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